Kismet Carousel
by Ms Trick
Summary: AU-All Human. Buffy escapes from a twisted orphanage, taking some super-human abilities with her. She's adopted by a traveling circus. Buffy/Spike.
1. Jailbreak

"Let's go!" Buffy whispered frantically and shoved Faith out of her bunk.

Suddenly, the fire alarm went off, its loud sirens ripping through the air.

"That'll be Kendra," Buffy said as she and a now wide-awake Faith sprinted out of their dorm room into the hallway, which was a chaotic mass of children by now.

Children of ages ranging from six to sixteen were frenetically running towards the exits. Yesterday the word had gone around quickly that the escape would be tonight, so most children already had their shoes and small duffels filled with small necessities like snacks and blankets and the rare personal memento. All of the children were orphans and only a small number had inherited something from their absentee parents. Most of the orphans, however, were taken in without any personal items and the clinic had never provided any.

Buffy was one of the rare few who had something. As she ushered children younger than her 16-year-old self towards the exits while running towards them herself, she was comforted by the feel of the heavy silver cross bouncing against her chest.

Finally, everyone was outside the clinic's dorm building and sprinting in a thousand different directions. Faith grabbed Buffy's wrist and yanked her towards Kendra. The three of them were the oldest at sixteen and were often tested on by the clinic simultaneously.

Only after the first shot rang out did the screaming begin. The three eldest ducked their heads a little lower but kept running amidst the shouts and cries and gunshots. Suddenly, there was a blast that was much nearer to them than the others.

"Kendra!" Buffy yelled as she watched her comrade fall to the ground. Her first instinct was to run back towards the now-still teenager but Faith didn't let go of her wrist.

"No! Faith!"

"We can't! We gotta go!"

Faith, pulling Buffy along with her, finally reached the chain-link fence that surrounded the perimeter of the clinic.

Crouching into the shadows, Faith asked breathlessly.

"Can you climb this thing?"

"I think so," Buffy replied, trying not to think about Kendra lying in her own blood.

"Then you gotta help me over, B."

Linking her hands together, Buffy boosted Faith up the fence until Faith could make it on her own. Buffy turned and looked, noticing with some relief that the jailbreak was also happening on boys' side of the clinic.

After scaling the fence, the two girls sprinted for as long as they could through the reservation towards the direction of the main road while trying to avoid the spotlights. Buffy found herself thankful that they lived in California and not a place with cold winters.

Almost tripping over the change in terrain, Faith stuck out her thumb as she and Buffy started to jog up the side of the road.

"What are you doing?" Buffy managed to gasp out.

"Saw it in a movie. It's called hitchhiking."

After fifteen minutes of holding her arm out to the apathetic headlights of cars, a little gold Chevy pulled over.

"Are you going towards the Red Virago?" The driver asked with a South American accent. It was a woman, no older than 25 by the looks of it.

"Sure!" Buffy yelped.

"I can help you then."

The two teenagers scrambled into the backseat.

"I am Ampata Gutierrez."

Faith and Buffy mumbled their names as Ampata's little gold car took them away from the twisted Sunnydale Orphanage forever.


	2. Losing Faith

**Two Months Later**

Loud music pounded through The Red Virago. There was a small room directly above the strip club that was vibrating along with the techno beat. Buffy had her head underneath the pillow on her cot as she mulled over her present situation.

Someone rapped on the door but Buffy couldn't hear it above the music.

Lily opened the door and peered into the little room.

"Buffy. We kinda need you."

Buffy peeked out and looked at the clock above Faith's messy cot. Sighing, she pulled the pillow off her head.

"I'll be right there. Let me get changed."

Lily nodded. After she had closed the door, Buffy pulled off her loose t-shirt in favour of a tight red leather corset top that belonged to one of the strippers'. She left on her jeans, which had been a hand-me-down from Ampata.

She left the sanctity of her and Faith's little room and clomped downstairs in her high-heeled shoes to help Lily and Ampata with the bar. Unless it was really crowded, usually the bar only required two or even one of the three to work it but tonight was New Year's Eve and the place was packed.

Buffy noticed that Faith was occupying The Red Virago's main stage tonight. This was new. When Ampata had brought in Faith and Buffy, Darla--the owner of The Red Virago--had offered them a place to stay in exchange for free labour. Buffy knew she'd never be able to strip so she'd stuck to the bar but Faith had taken to it like a fish to water. Up until now, Faith had only been allowed work in the cages but Darla had finally let her take centre stage.

Sighing, Buffy glanced at the clock. It was 11:13.

By 12:45, she was ready to kill someone. If she heard one more lewd comment about why she wasn't stripping too or if she accidentally broke another glass...

"Try not to grip things so hard Buffy," Ampata said as she swept up the broken glass and walked to the garbage can at the other end of the bar.

Buffy watched her retreating back for a split-second before turning to the other bartender.

"Lily, I need a break."

"O-okay Buffy. I guess you can have one."

Buffy forgot to thank her as she turned and marched outside into the cool air. She went around to the alley adjoining the left side of the building and sat down on an overturned crate.

She was sitting there for only a few minutes when Faith came out for a smoke.

"Hey B. What's kicking?" She said as she pulled a cigarette from its pack.

When Buffy didn't respond, Faith looked down. Buffy had her head in her hands.

"B?"

"This is killing me," she finally said, looking up.

"What?"

"The stripping and the bartender-ing and the-the lewd comments...I can't do this."

"You don't strip."

"Yeah. Why do you?"

Faith didn't answer. She sucked in some more smoke and blew it out again before responding.

"It makes me forget what they di--it makes me forget. When I'm up there, there's nobody but me and what I'm doing to those boys. And I fit in this world. It's want, take, have and I'm loving it. I belong here."

"Well, I don't."

"And whatever you need comes first right?" Faith snapped.

"That-that's not what I meant."

"Sure."

"I just...I can't stay here...in this place. It feels so low to me."

Faith threw her cigarette down.

"Oh excuse me for being beneath Your Highness's morals," she said angrily.

"Faith, it's not like I think you're below me. I just...have to leave...tonight. I'm going tonight," Buffy said, coming to a decision.

"Just because you think you're better than us, you're going to abandon me?"

"Us?"

"Forget it. Go on. It's not like dirt has any feelings right?"

"Faith..."

But Buffy was met with the slamming of the side-door as Faith slipped back inside the bar, leaving her alone in the alley.

After taking a few shaky breaths to try and hold back the tears Faith's bitterness had caused. She scampered inside, up the stairs, and into her room. Taking a duffel that didn't belong to her, she quickly packed in the few decent pieces of clothing she had been given by some of the working girls. The jeans were too big for her but she managed.

Then she reached underneath her cot and pulled out a jar filled with money she had saved from tips she had received and her silver cross necklace.

"So, you're, like, ditching us?" A voice said from the doorway.

"Yeah Harmony. I'm going," Buffy said, zipping up the duffel.

"Whatever. Maybe you should go join the circus. You could be with other freaks like you."

Harmony cracked up at her own jeer as she tossed a crumpled piece of paper at Buffy's head. She always loved to poke fun at Buffy for her seemingly inhuman strength. Buffy scowled as Harmony left--still chuckling--and looked at the flyer in her hands, which happily proclaimed information about the travelling circus in town. They'd be staying all summer in the carnival grounds.

Hoisting the duffel over her shoulder, Buffy left the room without looking back, leaving the flyer on her cot.


	3. Celebrating Our Freaks

"Alright, do you have any peculiar abilities that you could use in performance?" Rupert Giles asked the blonde girl.

"I…am strong...er. Than most people," Buffy replied, awkwardly.

"Let's see, then."

"What?" Buffy questioned.

Giles was flanked by a pretty redhead who chose then to pipe up:

"Oh, pick something up!"

Buffy looked around and her eyes landed on a cannon. She walked over to it, sliding her duffel down her arm and onto the ground. Giles had his arms crossed and the redhead looked on curiously as Buffy leaned over nervously to grip the cannon...before hauling the entire steel contraption off the ground and holding it over her head.

Giles uncrossed his arms and his eyes widened.

"Woah," the redhead said.

Buffy blushed and quickly but carefully put the cannon back down, and went to retrieve her duffel. She hadn't exposed her strength so blatantly before, having been so determined not to be detected by the Orphanage. Giles and the petite redhead didn't say anything; these few seconds of silence allowed Buffy's fears to ramble through her head. What if she was too much of a freak, even for the circus?

"Keeeeeeeep her!" A dark-haired woman nearby caterwauled.

"Of course, Dru. Do calm down," Giles said, exasperated. "Welcome Buffy. Willow, introduce the girl and show her where she can sleep."

Buffy smiled, relief evident in her face.

"You got it, ringmaster man," the redhead chirped. With that, she beckoned Buffy to follow her further into the big-top tent. "I'm Willow Rosenburg, like Giles said, and I'm the magician and Giles' management assistant."

Looking up, Willow pointed out the three trapeze artists: two girls and one male.

"Get down here and meet the new girl!" Willow hollered.

One by one, the trapeze artists somersaulted down, landing on the large net with a bounce.

"This is Xander Harris and his girlfriend Anya Jenkins," Willow said, indicating the couple in matching, tight-fitting red and yellow outfits who were now on the ground.

"Catch me, Xander!" Said the smallest trapeze artist as she flipped over the side of the net. Xander complied hurriedly and caught her in the bridal carry before she hit the ground.

"And this is Dawn Summers. She's the baby of the circus."

Buffy noticed that Dawn's outfit was red and pink with glittery patterns.

"I am not!" Dawn whined.

"You're our baby, Dawnie," Willow said good-naturedly before turning to Buffy. "But that's only because she's the youngest. It was her cannon you picked up."

Buffy's eyes widened as she looked at the gangly girl. _This_ little thing was shot out of the cannon?

"Wait, what did you do to my cannon?"

"She picked it up," Willow said.

"Shpedoinkle," Xander said, impressed.

"Holy moly. Who are you?" Anya asked bluntly.

"Oh. Guys, this is Buffy...What was your last name?" Willow said.

Buffy looked sheepish and said quietly, "I...don't know it. I was raised in an orphanage."

There was an awkward silence before Dawn spoke up.

"So you don't have a last name? Want to share mine?"

Buffy looked up at this unexpected gift.

"Are you serious?" She asked timidly.

"Sure I am!"

"Okay. Buffy Summers it is," Xander said with a grin.

"I'm gonna get her a cot," Willow said and pulled Buffy towards the other side of the tent. Going through some flaps to the back area, Willow indicated where the boys slept and where the girls slept. When they entered the girls' sleeping area, they were greeted by an indignant "Hey, close that!"

"Sorry Cordelia," Willow said to the half-naked woman. Cordelia was busy dressing herself in her own costume, which seemed to be skin-tight and rather plain on her torso but rather glamorous on her lower body with a layered petticoat of blue and green taffeta.

"Cordy's good with her mouth," Willow said in a deadpan voice.

"Haha. You're funny. Who's this?"

"I'm Buffy."

"I swallow swords and blow fire."

"Oh...that's...a good thing to be able to do, I suppose."

Cordelia gave her an odd look.

"Whatever." With that she pulled out a make-up kit and turned to face a slightly scratched mirror hung on a support beam.

Buffy turned to Willow to find the magician crouching by a cot that was slightly larger than the others that was occupied by two girls.

"Tara! Fred! Get up sleepy heads," Willow whispered loudly and shook each of the girls' shoulders.

Buffy wondered if she would be sharing a bed with someone. Realising that all the other cots that crowded the little room like a herd of sheep were too small to hold two people comfortably, Buffy wondered if the girls were lesbians.

The two bedbound girls blearily opened their eyes at the same time.

"Come on. We have a show at noon today."

Tara and Fred moaned and closed their eyes again. Willow smirked and pinched their butt.

The girls yelped simultaneously and finally sat up, pretending to look a bit scandalized. It was then that Buffy realised that with these two around, there was no way she was too much of a freak for the circus.

"Buffy, this is Tara and Fred. If you couldn't tell, they're our Siamese twins and also my lovely assistants."

The twins offered Buffy a sleepy, lopsided smile each but Buffy couldn't stop staring. Shyly lowering their eyes, the girls started getting out of bed.

"Don't worry," Willow said to the twins. "She'll get used to it. She'll learn to not only appreciate freakishness, she'll celebrate it." There was a bit of a threat in Willow's tone, Buffy noted. Willow was apparently very fond of her assistants.

"I...sorry," Buffy stammered.

"Let's hear it for the mistress of eloquence," Cordelia snickered from the corner.

"You know what you could do, Buffy?" Willow said suddenly. "We need a tightrope walker."

"What?" Buffy's eyes widened.


	4. Bugs

Seven and a half months passed. Buffy _had_ gotten used to the odd presence of the Siamese twins, had been quick to learn how to walk the tightrope, and had created several tentative friendships; she was learning to trust people.The circus had hit a new city a few weeks ago when something strange happened.

Buffy sat in the lower rafters of the big-top helping Xander tweak the trapeze mechanisms.

"Do you have any peculiar abilities that you could use in performance?" Giles' voice drifted up to them from below.

Buffy glanced down to see Giles talking to a boy with platinum blond hair, who couldn't be any older than her, and a girl with long brown hair with a couple of red streaks in it.

"Gwen here's a bit of a lightning bug," the boy said.

"I'm a freak," she said bluntly.

"Oh?" Giles asked.

Gwen peeled off one of her gloves and looked around for something to electrocute. Wary of how destructive her odd ability could be, the boy asked for a light bulb.

Giles sent Willow to get one and she returned with a tangled string of Christmas lights.

"This is the best I could do. They're Tara and Fred's," Willow said, handing them over to Gwen, who took them quickly. Not quick enough.

"Ow!" Willow yelped as she got a small shock.

Gwen unscrewed one little light and stuck her finger in the socket. Giles was stunned as the lights suddenly lit up. He double-checked that they weren't plugged in. They weren't. The only thing they were touching was Gwen.

"Oh Weird! Cool! But weird," Willow babbled.

Above them, Buffy froze. Gwen. Little Gwen Raiden, one of the only girls at the Orphanage who knew her last name. This had always given her a bit of a haughty attitude. Buffy noted that she'd gotten a lot taller in the year they'd been free, and the Crayola-red streaks in her hair were new too. She was still untouchable, though.

While all the focus was on his companion, the boy had wandered over to the lion cages and was now crouched against the bars. Surprisingly, they didn't snarl at the intruder as they usually would have.

"Boy! What are you doing!" Giles yelled when he noticed.

"My name's Spike." Was all he said before reaching a hand through the bars to stroke the nose of a lion who started nuzzling his hand like an old friend. Giles and Willow openly stared.

"Lions can sense when you're afraid. They can also sense friendship and need respect."

"Well...I guess after Buffy and Gwen and now this, we should start lowering the bar on our standards of normalcy," said Willow after a minute.

"Mysterious kid," Buffy murmured as she watched him from the rafters.

"Yeah...I don't like him," Xander said decidedly.


	5. Aim

Buffy peered out from behind the curtain at the bright lights that illuminated the large middle ring. She was dressed in a maroon leotard with a shimmering pink skirt that went down to her knees. Tara and Fred had done her hair and Cordelia had reluctantly allowed Buffy to wear one of her pairs of large star earrings.

Angel, Charles Gunn, and Riley Finn, the three strong men were just finishing their performance and a multitude of applause, mostly from drooling women, followed them out.

They walked past Buffy, greeting her with smiles and a saying of "Good luck, kiddo." She smiled back and turned to Spike, who was standing silently behind her.

"You ready?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said gruffly before the lights dimmed, which was their cue.

Buffy's unbeatable aim had led to Fred babbling about weapon opportunities and eventually suggesting that Buffy be a knife-thrower, which had been a fantastic idea. Unfortunately, there was no one who **a)** could be spared **b)** trusted Buffy's skills that much or **c)** fit the bill. While Gwen had shaken her head, Spike had accepted the job without hesitation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Giles' voice boomed out from the speakers. "For the grand finale, please welcome the lovely Buffy, our Lady of the Knives!"

Buffy pranced into the centre of the ring and raised her arms into the dazzling spotlights. She was met with applause and a few whistles, which she took without flinching.

This was Spike's first performance, though you wouldn't have been able to tell, seeing as he met the crowd with indifference and calmly got into his position in front of the huge target that had been set up against the far side of the ring.

He wore a simple outfit; his slightly poofy, bright green pants had a large yellow star on one leg and though the waist fit snug on his hips, they were connected to suspenders that went over his skin-tight, black-and-white checkered shirt. He wore no make-up on his face but he had donned a mask that covered the left side of his face only. The mask was white with half of an oversized red grin and a four-pointed black star for the eye painted on.

He stood in a cross position, with his arms spread straight out, his white-gloved hands extended languidly. Buffy stood about fifteen feet away from the massive target.

An inch and a half to the left of his thin waist, a sharpened dagger struck the target. Spike didn't blink.

Buffy played her part of the Mistress of the Knives and smirked at Spike and winked at the crowd and toyed with her daggers enticingly, which earned her several more cat calls from the audience.

Another knife hit its mark an inch below Spike's extended right arm.

"Try to look scared, my little clown," she said jokingly as she gripped another knife. "Play the crowd up a little."

Spike didn't respond and kept his blank gaze directly on her. She frowned a bit, wondering about this strange guy as she turned again to face him.

_He's so calm, not nervous at all. Like he isn't afraid at all. Isn't afraid of anything. Not even death._

She thought as she brought her arm back, preparing to hurl another knife in his direction. She looked into his impassive eyes

_Is that it then, Spike? You're not afraid to die?_

As Buffy flung her arm forward and let loose the knife, she felt her disturbed thoughts mangle her aim.

"No," Buffy gasped as the tilted blade flew out of her hand. Her eyes widened as the knife zoomed towards Spike.

Buffy didn't start breathing again until she saw the dagger solidly implant itself in the target with a dull thunk next to the uncovered half of Spike's head.

She pulled in a shaky breath as a trickle of warm blood slid down the side of Spike's face. He hadn't twitched throughout the entire mishap.

The audience cheered and clapped and whistled loudly as Buffy and Spike took their bows in stony unison in the centre of the ring.

As soon as the two of them had vanished backstage behind the red and white, striped canvas, Buffy hurriedly checked Spike's wound, which turned out to be a deep but relatively small graze that began on the side of Spike's face not far from his eye and ran back into his blond hair.

He shrugged her off in irritation and she paused her fawning to look him in the eye.

"Why didn't you dodge that last knife?" She begged, confused.

He regarded her unemotionally.

"You don't pay me to dodge," was all he said before he turned and walked away.

Buffy watched his back until he'd vanished into the men's sleeping tent, presumably to clean his cut. She sighed, annoyed at herself for the blunder; it had been the first time her aim had ever been off, and now Spike was irritated with her.

_You always were fantastic with first impressions_, she thought sarcastically to herself.

Deciding that standing there feeling sorry for herself wasn't helping, Buffy rubbed her arms and walked off towards the women's sleeping tent.

As she passed by the Manager's office, she heard raised voices and, giving in to her curiosity, paused to listen.

"Now, it's a simple story. Stop me if you've heard it. I have found and truly believe that there is nothing so bad it cannot be made better with a story. And this one's got a happy ending. Well, for me anyway."

"I've told you once and I will now repeat myself," she heard Giles say angrily. "My answer is 'no' and that is _final_."

It sounded like someone was gathering papers and then the vexed, Southern drawl drifted towards Buffy again.

"Well now. We'll see what happens, won't we."

"Get out of here."

A tall man in what looked like a priest's outfit exited Giles' office with a smirk on his face. Buffy froze as he caught sight of her.

The man glanced at her up and down; then with a look of disgust and a mocking tip of his hat, he turned and left the big top.

Buffy glared after him and then noticed Giles doing the same from the door of his office.

"What was that about?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Oh. That bastard wants to buy the circus."

Buffy frowned. "Why would a priest be so keen about buying a circus?"

"He's not really a priest, he's a business tycoon. He'd make millions by purchasing the circus, deconstructing it, and selling the pieces."


	6. Connections

A young woman in her early twenties with eyes like a snake and golden ringlets smiled happily at her partner.

"Found one," she said.

"Well, that's just swell."

The woman spun on her expensive heels and glared at two of her subordinates. They stood taller and she pursed her deep red lips.

"Hello? Go get her?" She snapped.

When they scampered out of the room, she smiled garishly.

* * *

Something was wrong. Buffy glanced around the empty circus tent anxiously as she finished packing some equipment for the night.

Glancing up at the small aureole of twilight she could see above her, Buffy bit her lip and walked outside. Suddenly, she heard a muffled yelp from behind a gaggle of elm trees.

Buffy ran towards the noise and witnessed Gwen shoving a man backwards with an electric blue blast from her bare hands. He flew backwards and fell down dead.

"Look out!" Buffy yelled a second too late as another man struck Gwen over the head with a baseball bat.

As Gwen fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Buffy rushed into the fray and, for the first time in her life, used her strange powers in a fight. Swinging her fists and kicking wildly, she managed to take down another two men. One stayed down, the other unsteadily got to his feet as Buffy turned and launched herself at the man who was quickly tying Gwen's gloved hands together with rope.

Behind her, three other men started to circle.

* * *

Spike kissed Drusilla pleasantly on the hand and she smiled back politely. Not being very sociable, Spike recently found himself hanging around the crazy fortune teller. He enjoyed the surreal atmosphere of her small tent and her Victorian behaviourisms; they intrigued him when the surreal life of a circus performer just wasn't surreal enough. Walking away from the dark blue tent decorated with silver and gold stars, Spike glanced up at where the real stars should be.

Of course, this was California. No stars to be seen. Spike sharply looked towards the trees as a thud reached his ears.

Moving quickly but as quietly as he could, he approached the secluded gathering and saw Buffy, hair gold and wild, her fists up and ready as she stood protectively over Gwen's prone body. Very brave of her, Spike noted, considering the group of men stalking menacingly towards her.

He quickly counted six men still standing and sighed; these weren't the best odds but that never stopped him before.

Flying, fists-first, into the battle, Spike threw a punch that knocked a man out cold before he even registered what was happening.

Spike soon found himself back-to-back with Buffy near Gwen as they haphazardly fought their attackers. Finally, all the men were either unconscious, dead, or had run away. Panting like crazy, Buffy and Spike put their fists down and let the adrenaline flow out of them.

Spike was leaning over, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain control of his breathing. Buffy had her hands on her hips as she tilted her head back, her mouth open and gasping in air.

She glanced over at Spike. He looked back. Slowly, their mouths still open as they breathed heavily, they moved towards each other. She slid her hands up onto his sweaty shoulders and his slid around her waist as they lowered themselves to the grass, Spike on top.

Her feet slid up and down his calves as he stroked her soft, kitten hips and undid the fly on her denim shorts, before moving on to undo his own jeans.

She pulled his head down to hers so their open mouths could meet. And then Buffy stopped trying to think of how strange this was, stopped trying to think of anything.

* * *

Glory stomped her foot angrily in her lavishly-decorated foyer as one of her cronies reported that they had not completed their task.

"Why the hell not!" She yelled.

"Now, Glory, language. I'll have no swearing in this house," her partner chided in a fatherly tone that was starting to grate Glory's nerves.

"Richard, don't talk to me like I'm a child. I hate when you do that," she said, rounding on him.

"I know, sweetie-pie. I'm sorry."

Glory turned back around to glare at her subordinate. But Richard Wilkins III spoke before she could say anything.

"Did you at least learn anything useful?" He asked in his usual chipper tone.

"Yes sir. There are two other Sunnydale Orphanage escapees located at the circus besides the Raiden girl. We've identified them as Female # 13 and Male # 27."

Richard nodded his head pensively for a minute before saying optimistically to his girlfriend:

"There see, this escapade wasn't a total waste."

Glory rolled her eyes affectionately.

"Female # 13...I remember her: Buffy. She was rooming with my Faith at the institution. If anybody knows where my girl is, she will."

"I think I can help you with that," a Southern voice drawled from the door.

Glory and Richard's heads snapped towards the front door. They were irritated with themselves that someone could have gotten inside without their noticing.

"With what? And who are you?" Glory questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"Name's Caleb. I've got a proposition for you that I think y'all will like."


	7. Losing

Buffy walked cautiously along the thin tightrope, her thoughts flying a mile a minute, like they had been doing since last night.

She felt a little ridiculous and a little sketchy that she had lost her virginity outside, and near Gwen's unconscious body at that.

At the thought of Gwen, a wave of guilt soaked Buffy's consciousness. It had taken some thought on how to proceed with Gwen. You weren't supposed to move an injured person and Gwen's electric flow made it impossible to call a hospital; they wouldn't know what to do with her.

And where had her cross necklace gone? She couldn't find it anywhere.

Not that sex with Spike had been bad. It had been pretty good, but the aftermath was a bit awkward. They talked about how they should move Gwen and what they should tell the rest of the circus, trying not to look one another in the eye all the while. Eventually, they got Giles and a pair of thick rubber gloves and took Gwen to her cot in the girls' sleeping area.

Tara and Fred, the resident nurses, shooed the men out and proceeded to clean and bandage Gwen's head (while wearing gloves, of course). Buffy didn't even look at Spike as he and Giles left, and she hadn't said a word to him since.

_What time is it? Afternoon sometime. Oh God, it's the afternoon of the day after I lost my virginity. And Gwen may not wake up._

A blast of fire from below startled Buffy out of her thoughts and off the tightrope. Her quick reflexes had her swinging off the rope by her hands, so she didn't fall onto the large safety net below her.

Glancing down at the centre ring, Buffy searched for the source of the fire and found it to be Cordelia, who was practising her act. Buffy watched her twirl some fiery-ended batons like a cheerleader for Lucifer's team.

She swung her legs up and gripped the tightrope with them, and then swung herself into an upright, uncomfortable sitting position on the rope.

Deciding that simply dropping would be less of an effort than hauling herself up and walking back to the platform, Buffy hopped off the rope and let herself fall.

* * *

"Can we talk?"

"Vocal cord wise, yes. With each other? No."

"We need to talk."

"About what?" Buffy winced; she really didn't want to talk about what they did last night.

"About what happens if Sunnydale comes back for a second cup of tea."

Buffy stopped when she heard the word Sunnydale. _Ah hah,_ Spike thought. _You do know what I'm talking about._

Buffy took a moment to irrationally feel a little offended that he didn't want to talk about what they did. Shaking herself out of it, she asked:

"What did you tell Giles last night?"

"The truth."

Buffy jolted.

"You what?"

"It seemed the simplest course. He says he won't tell anyone and he deserves to understand why his circus is under attack."

"And if word gets out?"

"It already has; they've found us. Our best course of action would be to leave."

"Our? There is no 'our'. And besides, if we--if _you_ left, they might just come after the circus anyway. And we--I wouldn't be here to protect them. Not happening."

"Fine."

* * *

Richard sat down on the couch in his study, looking a little less chipper than usual.

Glory stalked into the room a minute later and seeing his dejected state, rolled her eyes.

"Cheer up, monkey. We'll find Faith. All we need is a better tactic to get Buffy to talk."

She sat down next to him on the small couch and stretched languidly, letting her legs glide up his and her stilettos coming to a rest in his lap.

"I know you're right, sugar. I just worry so much about her."

Glory tossed her head back in exasperation.

"Why'd you put her in the orphanage then?"

Richard looked sharply at her and then sighed.

"I wanted her to have all the options in the world and more. I wanted no one to take advantage of her, ever."

"So, what prize did she win?"

"She'll be stronger and quicker than most growing girls her age. I had all the girls in her dorm room put under the same tests so Buffy's equal to my Faith."

Glory pouted and slipped her foot coyly into his jacket.

"As strong as me?"

At this, Richard smirked.

"No one's as strong as you, pumpkin."

Glory smiled and pulled her foot back before changing her position on the couch. She slid over to her husband and slithered onto his lap. Her short red dress rode up her thighs and she put her arms around his shoulders.

"Want some good news?"

"I love good news."

"I know. Caleb's little minions planted surveillance around the circus. We're going to get the full tour tomorrow."


End file.
